


Swan Song

by ateventide



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 07:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25467235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ateventide/pseuds/ateventide
Summary: .. For all the days of his life and afterlife, Wesley Wyndam- Pryce would never quite get over the thrill of watching a Slayer in battle( Post- Chosen/NFA. Ghost Wes Canon)
Relationships: Faith Lehane & Wesley Wyndam-Pryce
Kudos: 5





	Swan Song

Was watching some old Angel/BTVS episodes and decided to write something. Post- Chosen. Post- NFA. I haven't read the comics at all but refers to some events there(Ghost Wes). Written in one afternoon. One shot(unknown if more will come). Some OOC

* * *

There's a undefinable elegance to a Slayer.

A newly called slayer has a fumbling grace akin to a newborn deer learning to walk. Full of wonder and open to a whole new world. But an older slayer, if she is lucky enough to reach that hard earned milestone is simply put: a symphony. Poetry in motion. Fluid and deadly. A predator in action. A slayer moves with death. It is her partner in the night. And it's easy to see, to _feel_ in your very bones that a Slayer has a sense of ephemeralness and perhaps a more just a touch primordial. A glimpse into a time long passed. A legacy that was nothing short of breathtakingly heartbreaking. And for all the days of his life and afterlife, Wesley Wyndam- Pryce would never quite get over the thrill of watching a Slayer in battle.

To say watching one Slayer or even two fight was nothing short of magnificent. The power and fury was something unrivaled in mere mortals. So, needless to say that a group of Slayers fighting a bunch of scaly demons in an alley was awe- inspiring. The majority of the girls were young, but well within the normal age to be called. Their young age made no difference. Slayers were Slayers. Drawn to the hunt. He tried not to gasp as a girl stumbled through him. No one paid attention to him. Much less flinched. It was then he knew he wasn't here. Not really. They didn't see him, couldn't hear him and definitely not feel him. The thought alone made him ache. 

Wesley was dead. He knew he had died. Images of Illyria and Fred intermingling in his memory. Holding him as he bled out and speaking lies to him in his last moments. And then he was back. Standard perpetuity clause courtesy of Wolf Ram & Hart. Why waste his talents when he signed an eternity and more away. Though coming back as a ghost was a slight surprise. Unable to touch. Clearly a punishment- which he perhaps deserved in spades. But one minute he was looking over a scroll and the next he was in darkness. Trapped in nothingness as time passed by him. _Through_ him. Enough to know that he was trapped. Unable to move and to speak. Was this what Angel felt trapped at the bottom of the ocean? Confined to his treacherous thoughts. Would he go mad? And if he did what would it matter? Fred was gone. Her _soul_ was gone. He would never find her. There was no peace. No safe harbor. 

A husky voice called out to the younger ones. 

If Wesley still had a body, he would have shivered. But, that _voice_. Her voice. Not Fred's. Or even Illyria's. No, it was someone's voice that would stay with him till was scorched from existence. Full of promise and danger. If anyone could tempt a fall from grace it would be her. With her dark hair and soul sucking brown eyes- his once Slayer; Faith. In a she way had defined him. For better and worse. Though calling her "his" was perhaps a bit of a stretch. But for some brief moments in time, he had been hers and she his. It had been her voice in the back of his head as he had descended farther and farther into darkness. Teasing and questioning him at every turn. Maybe that was the real difference between the two. She was simply stronger than him- in every way that counted. For all her sins she had never sold her soul. Not technically; at least. She still had a _chance_. She was _trying_ and continuing to try. And despite all her biting words and heinous actions- Faith could never really **bury** that inherent goodness inside her. No matter how hard she tried. With every fiber of her being, she wanted to simply be _worthy_. Worthy of so many things she'd never admit to out loud. Nonetheless, she would strive for ever elusive redemption till death claimed her. He, on the other hand just gave it away. Despite himself, he called out to her. His voice gruff him misuse but of course she couldn't hear him. Couldn't see him. Feel him. Perhaps, it was better that way. Though then again, he wasn't sure what Faith's stance on voyeurism was.

It was Faith's cry of pain that sent him out of his thoughts as he watched her shove a young Slayer with blonde hair of out the path of the last demon. Faith had taken the slash meant for the young girl herself. For a moment, the other girls seemed entranced. Unsure. The demon clawed at her desperately as Faith became vengeance personified swinging her sword. So terrifying beautiful. And was it so wrong to want to be by her side at that very moment? Watcher and Slayer. As it had been for centuries. In that second, he lived a lifetime of blood and glory with Faith. Would it have been better if he had went with after Angelus? Would Fred be alive? Would any of them? But then her voice thundered through the darkness shattering his delirium as the girls roused themselves from their stupor. Luckily, it had been the very tail end of the battle and the coast was clear. All it took was a second to lose.

As Faith pulled her sword out of the very dead demon, she turned her head to look at the space where he stood. Time stood still as he looked into those once wild eyes. Now they were tired. But it wasn't the weight of destiny that weighed on her. No, it was something he recognized. In another life, it had shone in his eyes too. The mantle of guiding someone, mentoring them and even preparing them for death. Wesley now understood how very easily other side could ensnare you. But now per chance, she could have understood him in his younger days. While, clearly she didn't have his penchant for rules and off hand optimism. She had the burden of these young lives. To shape and teach. And he hoped that she'd do better than him which probably wouldn't be very hard at all. Finally, Faith looked away and back at her girls. The battle was over and everyone had lived. A victory. They gathered around her with tears and concern as she shushed them ripping a piece of her shirt around her bleeding arm.

It wasn't fatal and the patrol was not over she announced loudly. The small blonde girl that Faith had saved briefly hugged her before falling into formation with the other girls. Faith shook her head ruefully as the girls trooped out somewhat cheerfully out of the alley. At she reached the very end of the alley, Faith paused again. Hesitating but unsure why. Then a voice called out Faith in the darkness- summoning back to her duty.

Casting one last furtive glance at the alley, Faith turned and left him alone surrounded by the dead.

* * *

I ship F/W.

(Also cleanup of demons is a diff squad of slayers/witches!)


End file.
